


Planned Obsolescence

by HopeCoppice



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Other, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: Newt is already having a bad day. This might as well happen.
Relationships: Newton Pulsifer/Pollution
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20
Collections: GO Events - Rare Pairs, GO Events NTA 7 - Rare Pairs





	Planned Obsolescence

**Author's Note:**

> For the Rarepair round (Round 7) of the GO-Events server's Name That Author Challenge.  
> The rules were: max. 500 words, any pairing other than Aziraphale/Crowley or Gabriel/Beelzebub.
> 
> Oh, and if you're subscribed to me, brace yourself for a deluge of rarepairs, because I took this prompt and ran with it. Repeatedly.

Newton Pulsifer was having a bad day.

Anathema had decided, after the world had failed to end, that she needed to find her own way in life, and work out what she really wanted. 

"And I'm grateful, really I am. You helped me to let go of what Agnes wanted for me, and that... it means a lot. But it also means..."

"I'm one of the things she wanted for you." Newt understood, but that didn't soften the blow very much. "I get it. Good luck. Keep in touch?"

"Oh. Sure. Thanks for being cool about it."

It was, perhaps, the only time Newt had ever been called _ cool. _

And then, that morning, he'd got a text from her to say that she'd be staying in America for a bit, helping her family to navigate a world without Agnes, and that she still didn't know if she'd ever come back. And that was fine, too; Newt didn't expect her to drop everything and rush back to him, let alone to fall back into his arms. But he missed her. He was allowed to miss her, he thought. He was allowed to be sad.

With that terrible start to the day in mind, he couldn't even really muster the energy to be surprised when one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse came to stand behind him in the supermarket queue.

"Newton Pulsifer." He turned, warily looking them up and down. The flaming sword those kids had been wielding had left a few scorchmarks on the grimy white leather, difficult to distinguish from the other stains - but Pollution seemed unharmed, now.

"You're back," he squeaked, in lieu of screaming and running away, which might have made a scene. "Please don't kill me."

"Kill you?" Pollution reached out to touch his cheek, and Newt could feel the oil on their fingers. "That's not why I'm here."

"Then why-?" He couldn't say any more, heart pounding. Blood was rushing through his veins, and it didn't seem inclined to stop even as he realised that they really didn't seem to mean him any harm.

"You fascinate me," Pollution told him, voice soft. "I've never seen anyone reduce a computer to a useless piece of plastic in so little time before." They leaned in close, a smile lighting their face from within. "And I'm aware of Apple."

Newt smiled.

"It's not much of a talent, but it's mine."

"It's a wonderful talent." Pollution looked him over with those piercing white eyes, and Newt felt himself shiver. "I wonder what others you might have."

"Oh, none, really, I'm not very good at... anything..."

"I'll be the judge of that." Pollution held out a hand for his basket and he gave it to them without thinking. "Shall we find out?"

Newt took a deep breath, nodded, and followed them out of the shop. They left the basket abandoned between the shelves.


End file.
